


Utter Stupidity at Kenettra High School

by McWords



Series: Utter Stupidity and I am Awful [1]
Category: The Young Elites Series - Marie Lu
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cliche, Crushes, Cute, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Multi, Shit, so so cliche, this is awful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 11:12:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8888665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McWords/pseuds/McWords
Summary: Basically poor Raffaele crushing on Enzo and Enzo being a clueless idiot. Might turn into a choose-your-own with two options being a PWP and an actually developed story line.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If I end up doing anything with this is going to be a PWP first and foremost because developed stories take time and effort and both of those things need to be used to finish my currently ongoing fic. So,,, don't expect too much :/

Ah, high school. A time for having fun, creating memories, and making friends. Unless..you’re me. My name is Raffaele Laurent Bassete and I’m a senior at Kennetra High School. A senior who just made the worst- or maybe best- mistake of his life. And what, you may ask, was that mistake? Well, my dear friends, my mistake was falling for the handsome, perfect, and emotionally-distant Enzo Valenciano. Of course, many would not call this a mistake. Many would say, “Oh, honey that’s just normal. It’s called having a crush.” And yes, though it may be a very common feeling to experience, it’s definitely not one of the best feelings one can have. Especially when said feelings make you doze off during your math lessons. 

“Raffaele! Are you listening,” Shouts the teacher’s voice from the front of the room. I quickly snap out of my daze and tear my eyes from the boy sitting a few rows in front of me.  
“Yes, ma’am,” I answer as politely as I possibly can. My years’ worth of practicing polite smiles and reserved silence doesn’t fail me often, but it’s been especially hard to hold myself back from lashing out at this particular teacher.

“Good,” she replies with venom in her voice. “Then would you be generous enough to share with the class the formula for the Pythagorean theorem?” It was not a question, but a demand.

I try not to grimace as I answer. “A squared plus B squared equals C squared.” The teacher hives a haughty snort and turns back to the whiteboard. 

“You got off easy this time, Bassete, but next time I catch you dozing off in my class, you will live to regret it.” Snickers go around the room as the teacher demands silence and continues with her lesson. 

I do my best to pay attention, but something seems off. I stare down at my papers and textbook in frustration. Trigonometry. If I had the choice, I would’ve skipped the subject entirely, but if I am to reach the goals I’ve set for myself in life, I’m going to have to grin and bear it. After couple minutes of peace, I risk a glance towards the subject of my previous attention only to be greeted by a pair of dark eyes staring back at me. 

Enzo’s glance startles me so much that I immediately look down at my paper and furiously scribble some numbers. They don’t mean anything in the context of the actual lesson that’s being taught, but I somehow have enough pride left in me to fear the thought of Enzo noticing my embarrassment. I don’t look back at his desk for the rest of the class, instead maintaining a deadly focus between the whiteboard and my own work. 

At the sound of the ringing bell announcing the end of class, a rush of air finally lets out my lungs and the weight of a thousand worlds is lifted off of my shoulders. I take my time packing up my things to make sure that I don’t accidentally run into Enzo on the way out of class. By the time I make it out into the hallway, Gemma is looking at me confusedly as she stands outside the door, tapping her foot. 

“C’mon, Raffy we’re gonna be late for history,” She whines, grabbing my arm. 

“Don’t worry, we will be fine. And I really wish you would stop calling me that.”

“Whatever Raffy, you know you like it.” I pretend to be angry at her nickname as we sit down at our adjacent desks. History is a subject I actually like, thank gods. And it is one of the few classes that Gemma and I actually shared, so I can not help but enjoy it. I feel Gemma’s gaze on the back of my head as I bend over to get out my textbook and notebook. 

“What is it, Gemma?” My question actually seems to startle her a bit. I always did have some sort of eyes in the back of my head that allowed me to read the atmosphere twice as well as anyone else. Recently, it has came in handy, due to the fact that my actual eyes are often preoccupied with something- or someone -else. 

“You’re acting weird.” I really have to give Gemma more credit sometimes at her ability to understand people. She does spend an obscene around animals, and she swears that the way animals think is hardly any different to that of people. 

“What do you mean,” I ask, shoving down any emotions that dare to arise.

“I don’t know, but you seem really distracted lately. You’re one of the most calm and collected guys I know, but right now you seem all thrown off, or something.” I fight off yet another grimace and lie through my teeth once again. 

“I can assure you, it’s nothing.” At this, Gemma’s eyes narrow and she arches one eyebrow comically. “I-I just haven’t been getting enough sleep lately. That’s probably why I keep dozing off in class, too.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Gemma replies. “Sure. Just promise me that if you ever have a problem, you’d tell me. And let me copy the homework from last night.” I smile at her.

“Of course I will, Gemma.” I feel the paper beneath my hand begin to slide away and I snatch it back with a mischievous grin on my face. “But as for the homework thing...in your dreams, animal girl!” I lift the paper up high over my head and laugh as she tries to grab it from me. 

 

The rest of the class goes surprisingly fast as I alternate between chatting with Gemma and actually writing down notes that I probably won’t study anyways with this great memory of mine. I find myself a few minutes later standing along one of the walls of my chemistry classroom as the teacher assigns us lab partners. The room smells of chemicals and antiseptic due to the teacher’s obsessive cleaning and the constant lab accidents that are a monthly- if not weekly- occurrence. I never minded chemistry and was pretty good at it, actually. I seemed to do better with it when I was younger and it required only bookwork. Ever since fire and hands-on experiments were introduced, I have found myself becoming more and more accident-prone.  
“Last partner group, at station 10,” The teacher announces. While I was thinking, the rest of the class had already been seated at their tables. “Raffaele and Enzo in the back corner.”  
My heart stops beating inside my chest. For the second time today, the boy’s gaze meets mine, but this time, he is the first to look away as he turns his face away and walks to the back where our station is. The backup generator in my brain kicks in, and my legs carry me to the sit on the stool next to Enzo. I know that the lesson must be starting because I faintly register the sound of various notebooks being opened throughout the room, but I cannot bring myself to focus on anything besides restraining the urge to look at the boy next to me. I’ve already memorized what he looks like: deep brown skin, blood red hair, a sharp jawline, and dark eyes that could probably look straight into your soul. Thinking of this just makes me want to look at him more.  
I force myself to open my notebook and make scribbles of words that may or may not be relevant to the lesson, but at least look like I’m paying attention. Eventually the haze of my nervousness begins to slip away and I can actually make sense of what the teacher is saying. Unfortunately for me, the teacher is explaining a group project that we are going to be working on with our partners. The thought of working on anything with Enzo makes my heart rate skyrocket and it takes myself a few more minutes to calm down again.  
“Do you understand anything this man is saying?” The voice next to me startles me and I sputter for a second before actually looking over. Enzo is staring straight at me, his dark eyes looking significantly brighter than they usually do. There’s a bored lilt to his voice and it makes me feel a little self-conscious, which is something that isn’t easy to do.  
“He’s saying that we have to create a chemical solution that can dissolve eggshells. The group that makes the solution which can dissolve the shells the fastest gets extra credit.” Enzo nods, keeping his eyes on me as if studying me. I suddenly feel vulnerable and exposed, as if lying on an examination table before a surgery.  
“Oh, I get it now.” Something in his voice tells me that he understood it the entire time, and it confuses me as to why he asked me about it. His gaze lingers on me for a few moments longer than necessary before leaning onto the back of the stool and turning his eyes back to the front of the room. I stare at his face for a few more seconds, making sure he isn’t still looking at me and then the dam breaks. I blush furiously, turning away to hide it just in case.  
I have no idea how he’s able to affect me like this when no one else ever has before. I’ve never been so undone by something so simple as someone’s presence. There’s something about Enzo that I just can’t put a name to, and I spend the rest of the class period trying to do so. The sound of the bell snaps me out of my daze as people begin to filter out of the room. I feel Enzo’s eyes on me once again as I pack up my things.  
“Hey, Rafael,” he says in his low, smooth voice.  
“Yeah?”  
“Do you want to come over to my house tonight to work on the project?” I look up at him and he looks back at me, straight into my eyes. It’s unexpected, something small, but something that I would only imagine coming from my closest friends. This level of eye contact is hardly ever initiated with complete and total strangers. At least, when it comes to me.  
“Yeah.” It’s ridiculous, how quickly my speech is reduced to one-syllable answers whenever I’m around Enzo. I don’t remember taking out my phone, unlocking it, opening the contacts app, and passing it over to the boy across from me, but before I know it, Enzo is typing his phone number into my contacts and- oh gods- smiling at me. I nearly melt from the sight of it. It’s the warmest, softest smile I’ve ever seen, and it’s gone as quickly as it came. Enzo hands my phone back, brushing against my fingers and making me blush for what must be the thousandth time in the last hour. He picks up his backpack and gives me a little wave as he walks out the door. I wave back, stunned, and think: Oh, gods, what have I gotten myself into?

**Author's Note:**

> This is awful ughhhh. Check out my twitter @mc_words_ if you wanna talk Marie Lu books.


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